Kiss With A Fist
by TheQueenOfObsession
Summary: Clary is looking forward to starting college and spending time with her friends. But when a certain someone she hates more than anyone starts messing with her, she knows the rules, and knows that two can play at that game. The only problem is, she doesn't know if she's still playing. And secretly, neither does he. (Title inspired by 'Kiss With a Fist' by Florence The Machine)
1. Chapter 1

**I've been meaning to try this out. I've never written AH fics before, so forgive me if Magnus doesn't wear enough glitter, or Isabelle seems to generous. Enjoy! **

**I do not own The Mortal Instruments.**

* * *

"Fray."

"Herondale."

Clary narrowed her eyes at the smirking figure as he passed her. God, she hated him. She hated his stupid smirk that made her shiver, his eyes that were always laughing at her. Hated the way he thought every girl was born to swoon at his every move. Hated him with every fiber of her being and made sure he knew it.

And was forced to share her favorite class with him.

When she got her acceptance letter for NYU, she was sure nothing would deter her absolute elation. She was going to NYU. An Ivy League artist haven with a scholarship. Her best friend Simon got in to major in English, and Isabelle along with her brother and his boyfriend were all, by some lucky chance, going to Columbia. They would all be in New York together. During their college years. The best time of their lives!

But then Isabelle came over to help unpack Clary's new apartment. And Isabelle was positively _giddy._

"So..." she said, sitting on the marble counter of Clary's loft. "Looking forward to going to NYU?"

"I don't know if you fell in your head and forgot," Clary snorted, tossing her books on a shelf without bothering with order. "But i have looked forward to it all through senior year and into summer."

"Of course, of course." Isabelle said brightly, twirling a lock of raven hair between her fingers, a gleam in her eye. "Of course..."

"Okay, spill. What are you hiding from me?" the red-headed short girl straightened up, holding a heavy volume of _War and Peace. _

Isabelle held up her hands in defense. "Whoa, easy there, tiger. Just some news you...might be interested in."

Clary narrowed her eyes low, almost closing them. Last time Isabelle had news that Clary 'might be interested in', it was never anything good. _Cormac might know that you have a super huge crush on him...Your art teacher might think you've been ran over by a bus...I might have let is slip you had lice in kindergarten..._

"You know Alec's close friend Jace," the tall glamorous girl flashed a dazzling smile and slid off the counter, getting back to her job of stacking dishes on a shelf. "He got into a really good college."

Clary did not like where this was going. "And?"

"A very good college. One you might have also gotten in to."

"O-Oh." Clary set down the book and kept emptying the box. "So we go to the same college. It's a big university. Odds of me seeing him around are pretty low."

"Yeah, yeah you're right."

There was something else, Clary knew it. Very precisely, she picked up her stuffed hedgehog and threw it forcefully at the back of Isabelle's head. She yelped and swirled around.

"There is no need for violence, Clarissa!" she chastised. "Jace is taking some sort of music course, and some other stuff. Along with...your art one."

"_What?" _the hiss escaped Clary involuntarily, and she almost crouched into a pouncing position, as if her natural reaction would be to morph into a lion and claw someone to death. "_He hates art! Why?"_

"I think it's obvious." Isabelle snickered as she flopped down onto a closed box and leafed through Clary's sketchbook. "To torment you. He hates you, you know."

"Tell me something i don't know." Clary muttered, snatching the sketchbook and putting her hands on her hips. "That is a major waste of time! I mean, sure he hates me, but this is his college time. His career! Why would he _go out of his way _to get in mine?"

Isabelle blinked for a few moments. "He _really _hates you."

Now, watching as he made his way smugly to sit down at one of the easels, Clary's hatred for him tripled. Art was her escape. It calmed her. Art classes were supposed to be a time of relaxation, where she could bond with other artists and _not grind her teeth to powder while he snickered in her ear. _

To her irritation, but not great surprise as so far the universe had been pretty cruel, she was late, so the only seat available was right next to Jace, who had just walked in, passing her, smirking as usual.

Sniffing, she stomped to the seat, dropped her bag at her feet, and crossed her arms, steadily ignoring the light haired, golden eyed jackass seated next to her, fully aware of how uncomfortable he made her.

"Hey, Fray. Listen, i know you think that i only signed up to annoy you. But that's not true at all." he said, his silky voice dripping with amusement. He leaned in to her ear and ended in a low voice, "I have quite the passion for art."

Clary swung at him with her hand, but he had already backed away, laughing to himself.

The Professor was an extremely tall woman in her late forties, with brown hair streaked with silver. She was wearing strange garments of clothing, including a floor length skirt with patterned jungle animals, and several ponchos and wraps, despite the unusually warm September. At the tip of her nose were perched old fashioned spectacles. Dozens and dozens of necklaces and bracelets glittered around her neck and wrists whenever she moved, the light streaming from the window bouncing off the many reflective surfaces. She reminded Clary strongly of Professor Trelawney from _Harry Potter. _

"Good morning, students." she said, her voice quiet and smooth. "My name is Professor Smightly. Since this is our first class, and all of you are freshmen, i would like you all to draw something - using whichever medium you prefer - completely freestyle. Sign it, and hand it in at the end of the lesson. I would like to get to know your drawing style before we start any projects."

After asking if any of them had questions, she gestured to a counter with a sink and art supplies, before sitting at her desk and opening up a dusty, thick book, the title of which seemed to be Greek or Latin.

Clary returned to her easel with charcoal and paper, and started to draw. Her hand moved freely, tracing the outline of a city skyline.

"That's truly, truly beautiful." someone murmured from behind her. She jumped. Jace was standing next to her, his hand stroking his chin as he mocked amazement. "Yes. Yes, truly remarkable. Not long before you die a sudden death and your work gets noticed."

"Go back to your seat and scribble, Herondale." Clary said vehemently, spinning back to her drawing.

"Scribble? I could beat you in drawing any day of the week. Except Thursday. I have surgery. But any other day, and you're on!" Jace slid into his seat easily, making no move to paint, simply watching her.

Clary ignored his stare and kept drawing. After a few minutes, she snapped. Whirling in her seat, she faced him and crossed her arms.

"You should be drawing. You don't want to fail on your first day."

"Don't worry about me, sugarplum. I know how much you'd miss me. I'd never leave you." he smiled widely, tilting his head.

"You realize what a waste this is, right? College determines _the rest of your life. _And you signed up to torture me."

"Who says?" Jace turned to the canvas and thoughtfully picked up a brush, dipping it in red paint. Then he began to draw.

Honestly, in all the time she'd known him, she'd never thought about his drawing skills. She knew he was good at the piano, but that was as far as she thought his creative skills went. But she should have figured that with graceful fingers like his he could draw. He expertly draw out the lines of a figure, faceless. She was wearing a dress made of flames, and had fiery hair that flared around her shoulders. It was actually _good. _But never in a million years would she acknowledge that.

Tearing her eyes from his drawing, she hastily turned back to her own and kept tracing the dark lines, filled with spite. No way would he let him get to her. Art was _her _thing. No one would take that away from her so easily.

At the end of the lesson, she had a black and white drawing of a city similar to New York, with details set into every inch. She felt quite proud when she handed it in. Jace's was alright, but she thought hers was better.

Something bothered her about his painting, though. Despite her being faceless, the figure seemed to twirl, laugh, and wink at her as Clary left the classroom, steadily ignoring Jace's smirk

* * *

Music blared around Clary as she swayed to the beat, dancing with Isabelle like there was no tomorrow. Or no today. What with Jace ruining her class and being the usual jerk, with his smirking and his painting. Who did he think he was? God she despised him.

Isabelle, Magnus, Alec, Simon and Clary had all decided to go clubbing to celebrate - or for some, Clary thought bitterly, to forget - the first day of college. She wasn't sure how good an idea this was as they all had classes tomorrow, but that didn't stop them.

Clary loved dancing in Pandemonium. There was something so rhythmic, steady and reliable about losing track of time and swirling around to the pulse of the music. It calmed her, in a different way from painting. And right now, she sure as hell needed calming.

"I'm getting a drink." she yelled to Isabelle, who was dancing closely with a guy and didn't hear her. Shrugging, Clary pushed through the crowd and reached the bar. Ordering a shot of vodka, she noted another reason she liked Pandemonium. They didn't ID.

She knocked back the drink, and turned to dance again. But suddenly she didn't want to. She didn't want to be pushed against a swarm of strangers. Suddenly she just wanted to be alone. Or, as alone a club could offer.

Winding her way through, she reached a corner and leaned against the wall, pressing her palms to her eyelids. Why was she obsessing so much over Jace? So he was annoying. He was the one who was wasting his time. Not her. Let him have his fun.

"Well look at what the cat dressed up and dragged out."

Her eyes snapped open and barely focused on a tall figure standing in front of her, wearing a black dress shirt and black jeans that contrasted with his pale blonde hair. Golden eyes stared back at her, accompanied by a trade-mark, goddamned smirk.

"Herondale." she said coolly crossing her arms and looking past him, trying to spot someone to go to. Simon was talking to a pretty short girl with brown hair. Isabelle was still getting friendly with that guy. Or possibly a different one. And Magnus and Alec were nowhere to be seen. Probably making out somewhere.

"Fray. I'm hurt you guys didn't invite me on this little escapade."

"I certainly hope so."

"Ouch. Your words sting. Do tell, why you're standing here all alone, looking particularly down? Can no boys handle your meek dancing skills?" Jace smiled at her ever so sweetly, hands in his pockets.

"I don't know. You seem to be stalking me. In desperate need of a dance?"

Jace blinked and lowered his voice, looking around slowly. "Fray, you want to dance with me? I mean, i am otherworldly good looking, but you've always seemed so adamant about denying your feelings-"

"I don't have any _feelings _for you." Clary scowled. "Believe it or not, not every girl is into you."

"Aren't they?" he stepped closer, looking down at her thoughtfully.

"O-Obviously not." she stuttered. She didn't know if it was the alcohol, but being this close to Jace was making her hyper aware of how good looking he was. Clary mentally slapped herself. Jace is a jerk. Jace is a bastard. She hated him. And always would.

"You see, i don't think so." he took another step toward her, so that they were mere inches apart. He lifted his right hands and traced a finger down her cheek, looking her right in the eye. "I think you're conflicted. Years of hating me and logical reason seem to tell you that you couldn't possibly be attracted to me. But when we're this close..."

His hand trailed down her face, to the side of her stomach, and stopped at her waist. Her heart started beating faster, and she was acutely aware of how close they were, their bodies _just _not touching. He lowered his head and stopped his lips inches from hers.

"...you just can't resist..." he whispered, his eyes looking her slowly up and down before returning to stare into her own. Clary found herself leaning in, waiting for their lips to touch -

Then he pulled away quickly, smiling innocently at her. "Then again, you're probably right."

Turning around, he walked off and disappeared into the crowd.


	2. Chapter 2

**Firstly, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! It means the world to me. And, well, here's the second chapter. Again, i apologize if it's too short or the characters are terribly OOC. Enjoy! **

**I do not own The Mortal Instruments.**

* * *

Clary tapped her foot impatiently while waiting in line for her coffee. She had the worst hangover that no amount of aspirin helped, the previous night was a general blur, and Simon wouldn't stop talking about this Maia girl he'd met and would it be too soon to call her? Would she even remember him? What if it was a fake number?

And on top of all that, Clary remembered her brief encounter with Jace. That was even worse than the hangover.

Clary had known Simon since first grade, and the rest of the gang since middle school, with the exception of Magnus, whom Alec had started to date in high school. They'd all gotten along great. The only downside to their little group for Clary, was Jace. He was Alec's best friend, and ever since they'd all sat together at lunch in seventh grade, Clary and Jace had hated each other. She didn't know his reasons, but her reasons were like a mantra. And never, ever in all the years she'd known him, had any one of them shown romantic interest in the other.

Of course, Clary knew Jace's interest wasn't _romantic. _He was playing games with her head. And he wanted to 'prove' that all girls would be lucky to date him. And Clary was _not _one of those girls who fell for someone purely based on looks. She knew that. So why had she leaned to the kiss? Why had she suddenly wanted him, for the briefest of moments?

She was drunk, Clary decided. Drunk, that was it. Drunk and upset. There was nothing more to it.

"...maybe i'll call her tomorrow, and - Clary?" Simon nudged her, and she jumped out of her reverie, realizing they had reached the front of the line. She order a tall coffee, and Simon got a hot chocolate.

"Mind somewhere else?" he questioned her as they sat at a table with their drinks.

"You could say that."

"Thinking about that guy from last night?"

Clary choked on her drink and spilled the beverage all over herself. Simon smiled coyly and handed her a napkin, which she hastily grabbed. "Wh-what guy?"

"Please." he snorted. "You two were all over each other. Who was it? Anyone we know?"

"No!" she snapped. "It was - it was nothing. I was drunk. Nothing happened. I was just thinking about...Jace. How he's ruining my class for me." she squirmed in her seat. That was _partly _true.

"You know, all you have to do is give him a piece of his own medicine." Simon wiggled his eyebrows, taking a sip of his drink.

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I _mean, _take a music course. Specifically, his music course."

"But i don't play any instruments. And it would be stooping to his level, and..." Clary frowned. Why not, though? These were _her _college years. She could take whatever course she wanted. Besides, annoying Jace would be great. Though she wasn't sure anything could get to him. She also wasn't sure he wouldn't get revenge.

"You know what. Why the hell not." Clary slammed her fist on the table, grinning. "Carpe diem!"

"Carpe diem!" Simon agreed. They clinked paper cups, and got up to leave for classes.

As they walked out and headed for campus, Clary smiled. There was another way she could mess with Jace. One that could be _fun._

* * *

Jace yawned, sitting at the back of his music class. The professor was lecturing about something completely boring. When would they get to the actual playing?

He let his mind wander. Instantly, an image of Clary popped into his head. He barely stopped a smirk. _Ah, Clary. _She was so fun to mess with. When she was angry her eyes narrowed adorably, and her red hair would somehow burn brighter, making her look more alive than she usually did.

Of course, he thought hastily, tapping his pencil on the desk - it was all games. He didn't _really _like Clary. He hated her like she hated him. That's how it had been, ever since he could remember. Yesterday in the club, he was just being a jerk. Just wanted to annoy her. But he had wanted to kiss her so ba-

_No. _Jace cleared his throat subconsciously. He had been intoxicated, like she had been, which was why she had leaned in for the kiss anyway. Enemies remain enemies, friends remain friends. That was the law of nature. Or at least, he was pretty sure.

The professor dismissed them, and Jace was up and out the door before the rest of the students had even packed up. Art class was next. Just because he hated Clary, didn't mean he couldn't look forward to seeing her, right? More time to annoy her.

There she was, anyway, standing next to a water fountain, flipping through a book while students moved through the hallway like a school of fish. Jace smiled.

"Fray."

Clary lifted her head, and Jace expected her usual scowl at seeing him. But instead her face was uncharacteristically bright, and she smiled almost _genuinely _when she saw him.

"_Jace!" _she replied, waving at him as he approached. Alright. Something was definitely up. "Hey! How was your music class?"

"I-what?"

"You had music just now, right? With Professor Door? I signed up for his class, you know. I'm starting tomorrow." she titled her head, batting her eyelashes innocently. Jace narrowed his eyes.

"What are you up to?"

"Nothing. Just thought we could be...friends." Clary stepped closer, surprising him into backing into the wall, like he'd trapped her last night. What was she doing? And why was his heart leaping at being this close to her? Damn hormones.

"I'm _so _tired of always arguing and fighting. I think as _friends _we could be so much more." her voice was toxic and sweet, and she carelessly placed her hand on his arm, giggling. People passed them, going into their classes, talking, laughing, completely oblivious to the fact that for the first time in his life Jace was being made nervous by a girl, instead of the other way round. "Don't you agree?"

"I-"

"Jace?" Clary tugged at his shirt collar, making him lean forward. She brushed her lips against his jaw and brought them to his ear. Velvety, she whispered, "_Two can play at this game, Jace."_

Then she pushed him away and headed for their art classroom. Jace stood there for a moment before running a hand through his hair, smirking, and following.

* * *

Clary generally wasn't the type of girl who seduces guys for fun. But this was different; if Jace thought he could play her like that, then so could she.

And apparently, they were now pretending to like each other. Or rather, want each other. As fun as it was, every time she touched Jace a shock went through her. It was either complete disgust or something else. However, she couldn't see what else it could be.

Watching him stutter like that _had _been fun. She had never seen Jace lose his cool. Knowing that she had that kind of power, or could produce that effect...made her feel very powerful. Especially since she didn't even know how to seduce. She had just decided on winging it.

Her victory was short lived. When Jace strolled into the classroom and sat next to her, all of his previous calm was back. He flashed Clary a brilliant smile and a wink, before turning away and ignoring her.

"Welcome." Smightly said when everyone had spilled in. "I didn't have time to look at all of your work, but what i did see i was impressed with. However, i know you can do better. For our first project-" she picked up a piece of chalk and started writing on the board. When she stepped away, _SCENES_ was written in elegant script. "You will create a story. You can describe, express, and put forth this story through your drawings. The only rules are that you must use the same style for each painting, whichever style that may be, and you must use the same colors - again, whichever colors you may choose. You may begin drafting your first Scene."

She waved at the counter like she had the day before, and sat behind her desk, with a different foreign book in hand. While she had been speaking, Clary had already formed an idea in her head. It was depressing, but artistic. A fallen angel, overwhelmed with Earth, dying at the end. All done in charcoal.

Clary sketched a brief image, before crumpling it and starting again. It took her a few tries to find a setting she liked. She was halfway done when she noticed a splash of colors to her left.

She turned her head.

Jace had clearly started at once, without drafting anything. It was all a splash of oranges, golds, silvers, greens, purples. Every color the palette allowed. It took her a few moments to focus on the scene. A dancing figure, similar to yesterday's, twirling on the surface of what appeared to be a lake. It was overwhelming. And beautiful.

He noticed her staring and turned to smirk at her. "My talents exceed your expectations, huh?"

She switched her glance to him, to his painting, back to him, and then turned to her own. The angel was curled into a ball on the ground, its wings folded against its back. It was laying in a crater that had formed from the force, and an urban setting surrounded it. She had placed details into the pavement, the fold of its feathers, the people gathering around to look. It was missing something.

Slowly, Clary dipped a brush in paint and flicked it at her painting, covering it in a spray of red.

* * *

Isabelle daintily skipped from her campus, heading over to her new favorite lunch café, _Stairs. _She had taken to it right away - it had cute little brownies and sandwiches in a refrigerator to the side, and hot soups and drinks you could order at the counter. They had chipped brick walls and random armchairs and couches thrown about with little coffee tables. It was all very adorable, and when she ordered her iced latte, she looked forward to sitting down, pulling out her laptop, and doing research for her design class.

But when she sat in a corner and shook off her coat, she saw something that made her gape.

Simon was sitting at a table with a girl. The girl was short, curvy, and had brown hair tied into braids. She wasn't wearing anything that special - baggy jeans, a sweatshirt. Somehow she pulled it off. The two were laughing and talking, and the table was littered with espresso cups and wrappers.

A strange and unfamiliar pang shot through her as she powered up her computer, watching them from the corner of her eye.

* * *

The woman ran down the hall, gasping for breath, her heart pounding in her ears. The exit was on the first floor, and she still had to get to the stairwell and to the door intact. She could feel it following her, some being, some beast, _something, _and it shot fear through her like nothing ever had before.

Turning a corner, she stopped, nearly running into a wall. This wasn't supposed to be a dead end. In fact, the wall was placed randomly, splitting a door right in half, impossibly.

The thing was right behind her, silently laughing. The woman turned.

Her screams echoed around her, and she brought her hands up to her face, hiding from the horror.

A dark voice rang through her head.

_One. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Again, thanks for the reviews! This is more of a filler chapter, and as much as i never wanted to have one, i sort of had no choice. _Sort of. Again, _sorry for any OOC-ishness, and if people are suddenly behaving like they shouldn't according to previous chapters. Also, this sort of seems short to me._*sigh* _Sorry for that, too. **

**As usual, i do not own The Mortal Instruments.**

* * *

"Did you hear about the _murder?" _Simon faked a British accent as he arched an eyebrow at Clary.

The two of them were on the subway to their college, stuffed with the morning commute. Outside the sky was cloudy and grey, and rain seemed to be on the fence about whether or not it should flood Manhattan. It was no better inside - the heating on the train must have failed, and wrapped in two scarves, a hat, and gloves, Clary was almost glad she was squished into a metal tube with hundreds of other people that were resonating heat.

"Murder?" she questioned, bracing herself as the train stopped and let out a swarm of people, only to be replaced by another.

"This woman was found dead in some research institute. Apparently they can't figure out how she died. They found her paralyzed completely, so they figure her heart just suddenly stopped. Like a great shock killed her."

"Maybe she died of fear." Clary said in monotone.

"Stop making fun. It's actually quite...freaky-deaky." Simon raised his chin.

"_Freaky-deaky? _What's 'freaky-deaky' is you talking like a 50s housewife."

"I'll have you know that being a housewife was quite respectable in those times."

"Of course you would think being a housewife is a compliment."

They climbed out of the train at their stop and climbed the steps to the top. A cold blast of wind smacked them in the face and Simon pulled up his collar while Clary wrapped a scarf over most of her head.

"Body found dead in research institute. No possible cause." she mused. "Sounds like an Agatha Christie novel."

* * *

After parting with Simon, Clary made her way to her music class. She wasn't sure what she would be doing today. Annoying Jace? Playing friends? Casually slipping innuendos into their conversation?

But when she reached the class, Jace wasn't there. She thought he was only late, but half an hour into the lesson she doubted he was showing up at all. As she took notes about music terms she did not understand in the least, she wondered if something had happened to him. If he was okay.

_Not that i care, _she reassured herself, _a person can wonder if their enemy was okay. _

What was that saying? 'Keep your friends close but your enemies closer'? Suddenly Clary related to this phrase. She'd seen more of Jace in the past few days than of any of her supposed real friends.

_Sabotage takes dedication. _she argued feebly with her conscience.

After the class Clary was quite sure Jace was sick or slacking today. She got to her art classroom, early this time, and sat at the front.

"The early bird gets the good seat."

Clary was so startled she yelped and jumped from her chair. Of course, it was only Jace. He casually plopped himself next to her and put his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. Giving her a mock dopey-eyed stare, he added, "Miss me in music? I decided to switch from Door's class to something more stimulating. Where you actually get to play instruments."

"How convenient." she smirked bitterly. "Honestly, i didn't know you were one to give up a fight like that. I thought better of you."

"It seems to me like i'm only winning here. You're wasting your time in a boring course while i get to show off my piano skills to the swooning girls in my _new _class."

"Oh, i'm hurt. You're flaunting your sexual frustration at other innocent girls." she brought her hand to her heart. "However will i get over this?"

Jace cocked his head. "Oh, don't worry. I haven't forgotten about you."

The class had filled up and Smightly had appeared very suddenly and briskly behind her desk. She clapped her hands so everyone would sit, and Clary, mind reeling from that highly suggestive comment, sat down and faced her.

"Settle down, settle down. I'm very happy with the work you've been doing so far. So pleased, in fact, i'm starting another project of sorts. I've looked through all of your work and put together the art that i think goes together in that it is so different. You will be put into pairs, and will create a piece of work that will determine your final grade for the semester. Yes, yes, i know, every artist hates working with others, but i am convinced this will bring out the best in each of you. The first couple...where are, er...Jace Herondale and Clary Fray?"

With a glance at each other, Clary and Jace raised their hands.

"Ah, yes. You two are paired together. Next, let's see... Kelly Moode and Helen Ross?"

As Smightly went down her list, Clary cursed the skies. She cursed the ground and she cursed the people on the ground and the things those people have created. She cursed whomever had hired Smightly and she cursed her for getting this idea and she cursed herself for convincing Simon to sit with the new kids all those years ago in seventh grade.

This might have been an overreaction, but as talented as Jace was, Clary _did not work with other artists. _Her work was hers and hers alone. She never collaborated. When she used to meet up with her art group, she would always make sure everyone else teamed up and then worked by herself. And the fact that it had to be with _Jace _was just further proof the universe was laughing at her because it had nothing better to do.

"Oh my, oh dear, oh no." a sly voice sliced through her mental rant. "How _unfortunate." _

She only scowled at him and crossed her arms angrily.

* * *

"Izzy, i _don't want to." _

Clary whined as Isabelle dragged her into a movie theater. Some new movie was out and according to Isabelle it was supposed to be the romantic comedy of the year. But Clary was _not _in the mood for a romantic comedy super fun time night. Especially with the whole group. She just wanted to curl up into a ball under some blankets and read _Lord of the Rings _or something.

"We can't stop hanging out just because we go to college, Clary." the tall olive skinned girl said matter-of-factly as she glanced up at the screen with the times and checked her watch. "We have a few minutes."

They got refreshments and waited for the rest of their gang. Magnus and Alec showed up first, in deep conversation about some class of theirs in Columbia. Then Jace strolled in, winking at girls who turned to stare at him. _Typical. _

Last was Simon, but he wasn't alone. He walked in with a girl next to him, the same girl Clary saw him talking to in Pandemonium.

"Hey," he said as they approached the group. "This is Maia."

"Hi." the short girl said uncertainly.

"I invited her to the movie. That's okay, right? We never..." he trailed off, looking doubtful. They blinked at him, waiting for him to finish.

"Of course it's okay, moron." Clary was the first to speak, rolling her eyes. She held out a hand to Maia. "Hi, i'm Clary. This is Alec, Izzy, Magnus and..."

"Jace. Don't tell you've forgotten." he flashed Clary a glance before shaking hands with Maia like the rest of them had. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"You, too." Maia replied. But she seemed hesitant around Jace. Almost weary. Clary did _not _blame her.

The seven of them entered the dark theater, where trailers were already playing. The tickets didn't have seats, so they split up. In the end, Simon, Isabelle and Maia sat in the front, Magnus and Alec in the second row, and as perfectly as if it were planned, Clary was stuck with Jace in the third row. Honestly, she thought, as Jace slid into his seat, they should have just sat all in one row. But of course they had to sit in a way so they could all talk with each other.

_Izzy should be up here. That way couples can be together and the etxra wheels forced to mope in the back. _The universe had other plans.

"Don't look so tense, Fray. Being stuck in a dark theater with a handsome guy isn't the worst thing that could happen to you." Jace whispered in her ear.

"I could write you an essay proving that theory wrong." was her dry reply.

"I don't know why you dislike me this much." he mused. The movie started then, opening with a hospital scene.

"Are we really doing this now?"

"Why? Is _Hell Like Love _more interesting than me?"

"Anything is more interesting than you."

"I would be offended if that comeback wasn't on a first grade level."

Clary didn't answer him. Her arms were folded on her lap, and no way would she go near the armrest where his hand was resting. God. Never would she have imagined watching a romantic comedy with Jace Herondale, and let's face it, wanting him. Games aside. But even if she could admit a little attraction, she was not admitting it to _him_. Besides, attraction was one thing. Not a big deal. As long as they were there, the game wasn't over.

She casually placed her hand on his, and felt him freeze. His hand was warm, very warm, and Clary felt as though it was warming her up like a microwave. _The simile to top all others, _she thought.

* * *

Jace felt his pulse quicken when her hand came in contact with his. He knew what she was doing, but for a moment he liked to pretend there weren't any games. That the two of them were on a date. That she actually liked him and wasn't repulsed by him.

And as quickly as that thought appeared in his mind, it was gone. Because even though Jace liked the idea of having one of those sappy relationships, it wasn't him, and it certainly wasn't something he could have with Clary. Whom he- Jace stopped himself. He kept saying he hated her. But how could that possibly be true?  
Maybe he was just highly irritated by her. And maybe he wanted to kiss her. All he had to do was keep playing this little love/hate/seduction game they had going. How far would she go before cracking?

If Clary thought she was the only one who could play, she was wrong.

"Alright. Let's go on a date." he turned to her and murmured quietly. He watched as her face registered astonishment, confusion, then resolution. She was like an open book sometimes.

"If you want me so badly." she replied offhandedly.

"Like i've never wanted anything before." he smiled wickedly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry it's been a few days, i'****ve been swarmed. Thanks, as usual, for all the reviews, and especially to those who review each chapter! This bit is short, jokes aside, but i felt this was all that belonged. The next one, however, will be longer. Enjoy!**

**I still do not own The Mortal Instruments. _*sigh*_**

* * *

The rest of the week went by almost drowsily. Jace didn't talk to her or bring up any mention of the so called date. Clary couldn't decide if this was good or not. Normally she'd say good, but she had taken an oath not to lie to herself.

On Saturday, when she had been curled up in bed, peacefully asleep, a banging sound interrupted her dreams. She started awake, bleary eyed and irritated. The banging continued, and it took her a few moments to realize it was coming from her front door.

Muttering curses to herself, she slumped to the entrance and flung it open, wincing at the bright hallway lights.

Jace stood in the doorway, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, hair in it's usual planned messiness. He looked as awake as ever, and he grinned down at her in her striped, over-size pyjamas and messy knot of flamey hair, all accompanied by a grim face.

"It is currently 8 AM on a Saturday morning." Clary said, her tone expressionless. "For the past five days i've gotten up at six and made my way via crowded, uncomfortable public transport to go to university, where i slaved away at my work, later to repeat the journey back and be forced to either watch Star Wars or Mean Girls, depending on who had invited themselves into my apartment that day. I am going to sleep now. Good-bye." she made to slam the door in his face, but he stopped it with his hand.

"Morning to you too, sunshine. The Earth most definitely does _not _say hello." Jace cheerily announced, pushing past her into her apartment. He stopped in horror when he saw the damage.

"Did i miss a tornado warning, Fray? This place is _repulsive." _he made his way delicately through the piles of books and clothes on the floor.

"I didn't exactly invite you over, you know. Deal with it." Clary followed him into her kitchen. Saturday wasn't even supposed to be a day off, but she had few classes today and just decided to skip them. She needed the rest. And now, Jace was here. It wasn't even ironic anymore.

He looked at her sink full of dirty dishes, shook his head, and turned to face her. Something changed in his expression of disgust. Clary couldn't identify it.

"I'm here for our date, thank you very much."

"W-What? Could you not have called? Maybe mentioned it a day in advance?"

"Where's the fun in that?" he smiled coyly at her. "You'd dress up all pretty, cake on some make-up. Right now you're prettier than i've ever seen you."

She was struck speechless by his remark. He was a good liar. This game was getting dangerous.

They stood in silence for a few moments. Then, "I'm taking you out. If you prefer to change, then go on ahead." Jace leaned against a counter. "I'll wait."

Clary considered denying going anywhere with him. Instead, she slipped into her room and filed through her closet nervously.

* * *

"Where are we going?" she asked for the thousandth time.

Jace rolled his eyes, not answering. Clary asked a lot of questions. But he found that adorable about her. Not nearly as adorable, though, as when she'd opened her door looking sleepy and grumpy. It was the cutest thing he'd ever seen, actually. He even found himself wondering what it'd be like waking up to that every morning.

But along with those cutesy warm feelings, was the burning desire. He'd chased girls and won them over lots of times. He'd had some challenges, and some denials, but they never bothered him. With Clary, it was utterly and completely different. It had taken him a long time to realize this. When she wasn't looking at him with hatred, he wanted to smile. When she was, he wanted to kiss her very, very badly. And though he dismissed this as wanting something he couldn't have, he had never been able to lie to himself.

They were walking down Central Park West, amid the bustling tourists taking pictures of street names and heavy lidded New Yorkers headed for work. Clary was skipping beside him, dressed in a poka dotted dress and tights, along with patent leather boots. Her hair was down, and she had on a raccoon hat with button eyes and a black nose, and two scarves wrapped around her neck. Her hands, however, were ungloved, and stuffed into her coat pockets as she followed Jace.

He was surprised she hadn't guessed yet as they had both been born and raised in New York City, and basically knew their way around like they knew their faces in the mirror. Maybe she was being absent-minded, as usual.

"Aren't you freezing?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at his simple t-shirt.

"Are you worried for my health? Touching."

"If you die on me from freezing to death i'll have to wait around in the cold for the coroner."

"I wouldn't want to put your through that." then he unraveled one of her scarves and wrapped it around his own neck. "There you go. Nice and cozy."

She glowered at him. Then they came into view of the building, and she smacked herself in the face after saying _Oh _for a few seconds.

He didn't say anything, simply led her up the steps of the American Museum of Natural History and held the door open for her. A warm gush of air greeted them.

Clary's eyes widened as she looked around in fascination. Then she turned to him, a bewildered expression on her face. "You...you remembered?"

He shrugged. A few years back when the whole group were playing I Never, Clary had admitted she'd never been to the Museum of Natural History, even though she'd been in New York her whole life.

She blinked at him before smiling slightly and leading them to the counter to pay. He waved her aside and paid himself.

"So courteous. If the price were above five dollars maybe i'd even blush." Clary said wryly as they walked into the first hall and wandered from glass display to glass display.

"I'll keep that in mind when i'm buying you diamonds."

They walked through the museum, and the fact that Clary seemed to be enjoying herself brightened Jace up unnaturally. He pushed those kinds of feelings aside, though.

Feelings have no place in war.

* * *

They strolled through the underwater hall, which was mostly deserted except for a few people murmuring quietly to themselves. It was so silent here that no one wanted to be too loud - even though there was no reason not to be.

"Well," Clary said as they stopped at one of the exhibits in the back. "If you're so nice on a fake date than you must be great on a real one."

"This is a real date." Jace frowned.

Clary laughed. For a few seconds she didn't want to just _play the game _anymore. "No, it isn't, and we both know that."

"It is."

"Prove it then," Clary rolled her eyes. "Kiss me."

She knew he wouldn't - he didn't actually like her, even if she liked him - inexplicably - and his hatred toward her should be stronger than any dedication to his plan.

He wavered, looking down at her, something unreadable in his expression, as always. He slowly lent down and pressed his lips to hers, very gently, which made Clary gasp and back up against the glass, hands flying to her sides. He lifted his own and held her face, drawing away his lips and breathing deeply.

Then Clary pulled him closer and they slammed together, none of the carefulness of a few moments ago remaining. They kissed as if they were expecting to die and had very little time left, his hands wandering down her sides and wrapping around her, her own running up his spine to his hair, ruffling it as she ran her fingers through it and sighed, their kisses increasing in force.

Very suddenly Jace pulled away, and he seemed astonished and horrified. He looked around, panting slightly, before turning and hurrying from the hall.

Clary stood there, her heart slowly sinking.

* * *

The cool air outside did nothing to clear Jace's head as he hurried down the steps and across the street, walking quickly away from the museum. How could he have done that? Why had he not just said it was a fake date, like she had assumed? Now she would guess. Know, that he...he..._what? _Jace asked himself.

He had no idea.

Walking through the swarms of people to the subway, his mind wandered back to the hall, kissing Clary fiercely and without remorse, her breathing light and quick, her hands trailing up his back so lightly it made him shiver.

It was then he realized he still had her scarf wrapped around his neck, and he sighed in defeat, smelling the familiar lavender shampoo she used.

_Jace Herondale is in love, _he thought bitterly.

* * *

The middle aged man dashed into the library and looked around frantically. He knew there was a fire exit here - he was the damned librarian! But there was no exit to be seen where it was supposed to be, and not anywhere he looked. Turning back to where he'd entered, he drew a sharp breath. The door was gone.

He felt very trapped, very, very trapped. He could feel the creature inside, with him, breathing down his neck even though it wasn't behind him. He slammed his fists against the wall, yelling to be heard.

A dark shadow fell over him, and he turned. Dreadful screeches escaped his throat, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

The last thing he heard was a cold voice laughing in his mind.

_Two. _


	5. Chapter 5

***pokes head in guiltily* I'm sorry. I know it's been forever. Inspiration visits at the most inopportune momnets. Like at four AM. I kid you not. Here's the next bit - purely Clace. In other news, Clockwork Princess comes out tomorrow! I've reserved my copy already. **

**As usual - The Mortal Instruments series belongs to Cassandra Clare, not me. **

* * *

Clary stomped angrily through the swarms of people at some charity event to get to her campus. All she'd thought about since Saturday was Jace. Jace and his goddamned games. Jace and his goddamned looks. Jace and all the _goddamned kissing. _

Of course she was wrong for even a second to assume any stupid little girl crush she had on him could be requited. He had taken her on a nice date and then, _stupid stupid stupid _Clary made a joke about kissing, and Jace played her like the piano he so expertly knew.

After her first class was art, and she was _fuming. _However, she couldn't exactly burst in the middle of class. So when she walked in ten minutes late and saw that the classroom was set up with desks and chairs instead of easels, she internally groaned. _Of course. _The would be working on their _satan blessed _project.

Clary sat across from Jace and threw her bag on the floor forcefully. Jace winced. _You have no damn right to wince you no good sadistic asshole, _she thought angrily.

"We're supposed to be brainstorming for the project and working on our next Scenes." he told her quietly. She noticed then he was drawing another one of those color-happy drawings, with the fire ballerina. This time she was dancing with a prince, a prince made of snow and ice and ashes.

Saying nothing, Clary took some paper from the counter and started drawing. She didn't even plan it - the lines came freely, at their own accord, flowing across the page and connecting to form images. The angel was standing now, his wings battered, his now mortal skin in scratches and bruises. He was walking through an alley, hugging himself, head down, while a couple of homeless people watched him from a corner.

Professor Smightly came to their table. "That's very nice, Clary. Have you two planned anything for your project yet?"

"Oh, yes," she replied without thinking, as Jace's head shot up in alarm. "We've lots of ideas. We were actually thinking something along the lines of deceit and seduction - mind games and such."

"Quite a specific topic. I can't wait to see that drawn out." Smightly smiled, moving on.

Jace shot her a glance before looking down at his drawing and setting down his brush. "Clary, I-"

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" she snapped. His jaw clenched.

"I don't know why you're so angry, Fray. You asked me to kiss you."

"Did i ask you to run away in terror?"

He blinked at her in surprise. Clary smirked. "Thought not."

The lesson went on, and neither of them said anything as the students around them enthusiastically conversed about their joint drawings. When the class was let out, Clary was out the door in seconds.

But Jace followed her. The students drifted into their classes and the halls quieted down. _What else does he want? _she scowled, ducking into the girls' bathroom. He had the audacity to go after her.

Whirling around, she snapped.

"_What? _What else could you possibly have to say to me, Jace? You've been a fucking jerk your whole life, and you've hated me ever since we met, _i get it. _But why do you have to rub it in? Why do you have to act half-nice just so i can get it into my head i have a crush on you, and then throw it in my face?"

"I was never a jerk to you." Jace said calmly, trying to hold back his unwarranted rage. "You started acting like you were better than me and i reacted like anyone else would."

"Oh, you weren't?" flashes of that first time they sat together shot through her head. _Had he been? _It didn't matter. She wasn't going to show any doubt. "You've always been a pretentious jackass. To everyone."

"Look, Clary , just calm down-"

He had the _nerve _to try and calm her down, the nerve to act as if her anger was irrational. Clary knew how to push people. She knew how to make them snap just like she always did.

Smiling sweetly, she twirled a lock of her hair between her fingers and spoke silkily. "You're right. I can't believe what an utter _bitch _i've been, recently. Always, really. I should have taken your feelings into account."

He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. "You can't stand it when someone doesn't drop to their knees and kiss your toes like a slave, and i should have seen that this is just your _nature. _Some people are just so insecure they need reassurance. Those people need to be treated _delicately."_

"Rich, coming from the most insecure person i know."

"_Excuse me?"_

"Please, Fray. You're always doubtful about showing your drawings to anyone. You're unsure of half of your decisions"

"That's not true-"

"You couldn't even admit you were attracted to me because you were so scared of being shot down."

Desperate, she grasped for the first scrap of argument she could. "Well neither could you!"

"W-What?" he stuttered.

"You can't admit you have a crush on me, either. Is little Jace afraid of his first ever denial?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I don't have a crush on you."

"Oh?"

She pushed him, hard, and he stumbled back into the wall. In an instant her hands were on his chest, keeping him there. She leaned onto the tips of her toes and looked steadily into his eyes. "Your heart rate's picking up. Judging by my short height i'd say it wasn't from fear. You look a little restrained - can't keep yourself from kissing me? From screwing it all and _having _me?" she tilted her head, and it that moment she was more sure of that fact than of anything else. Jace liked her. Watching his pupils dilate and his hands press into the wall as if he wanted to sink into it was like watching a mouse cower from a kitty.

But he picked up on his cool quickly. "I'm a guy, Fray. Guys like being pressed up against girls. Especially dominant ones." he smirked.

"They do?" she mocked curiosity, tracing her index finger up his chest and to his neck, curling her fingers around the back of it. "Well if they like it so much why don't they act on it? I'm game, Herondale. Why won't you kiss me?"

"So you'll get all mad again? No thanks."

She brought her lips to his ear_. "I thought you liked me angry."_

* * *

Jace would have rather he was being murdered just then.

If Clary hadn't figured it out in the museum, she had it down now. And she was using it to her advantage. In all the years he'd known her, he always knew she was feisty and determined. But he had seen her with guys. She'd always been abashed and restrained and unsure.

Now she was acting _completely _out of character, and she could have won an Oscar. There was little he wanted more than to give in.

A random thought suddenly took precedence. _I'm missing European History. _

Then another one, one he cared about more. He was Jace Herondale. Sure he might be head over heels for the girl he'd thought he hated for a long time, but that shouldn't - and wouldn't - change how he acted when he was in these types of situations with women.

He smiled.

* * *

"Oh, i do." Jace took Clary's hands and pushed them away from himself, stepping from the wall. This time Clary stepped back. _What the devil was he doing? _"And you're right, Fray. Can i tell you a secret?" he looked around as if checking the empty bathroom for eavesdroppers. "I have a thing for redheads."

"Lucky for both of us," she quickly responded, not giving up her own act. "I've always admired blondes."

His grin broadened. "And you're also right about the attraction. You've got to admit it, Fray, we have a very obvious connection. I guess what they say is true. Hatred is the best disguise for all other feelings."

They were inches apart now, and a rational voice in the back of Clary's head told her to _stop and run, _while every other bit told her to indulge.

"I suppose it is."

Just then the door opened and a group of giggling girls scurried in. They stopped when they saw Jace and immediately started telling him to get out. He looked at them irritably, then leaned in to whisper in Clary's ear.

"I'll come over tonight."

Then he darted out of the bathroom.

* * *

"_What?" _

Clary winced at the high pitched squeal as Isabelle dropped her phone to the floor. The two of them were sitting at a Starbucks table, sipping hot chocolates and chatting about their colleges. Somehow Clary had let it slip that she'd been on a date with Jace, and Isabelle had professionally gotten all the other information out of her. When Clary had told her about him coming over, Isabelle had gone berserk.

"_He's coming over?"_ she bent to pick up her phone before staring open mouthed at Clary. She snapped her jaw shut, leaned in close, and said seriously, "Are you going to have sex with him?"

"No!" Clary yelled, horrified. A few people turned to look at them before falling back into their own conversations. "I'm not even going to kiss him."

"Why not?"

"Wh-Why _not?"_ she was starting to regret telling her anything. "Because it's Jace!"

"Yeah! It's Jace! Clary, the whole group has been dying for you two to get together!"

Clary froze with the cup at her lips. "What?"

"It's our favorite pastime - betting on when you two will hook up. Simon told us all about you and Jace getting cozy at Pandemonium. Magnus has Alec get information from Jace about how hot he thinks you are." Isabelle said this all in a gush. "You two are meant to _be."_

Clary gaped at her in horror. They'd been doing this for how long exactly? And Simon had _lied, _too - all of them had!

_Goddamned group of no good traitors._

* * *

She leafed through her copy of _Anna Karenina _distractedly, watching the clock. Clary was sure that Jace had _not _been lying about coming over, so her main concern was _when _he'd come over. The later he showed, the more of an excuse he'd have to stay over.

Just then the doorbell rang and she jumped from the kitchen counter, flinging the door open. Jace was leaning against the doorway, hands casually slipped into his pockets. He was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, nothing special, and Clary felt slightly over-dressed in her red summer dress and black ballet flats.

"Fray." he looked her up and down before pushing himself from the frame and stepping inside. She shut the door.

He went into her kitchen like he had when he'd been there two days ago, and filed through her cabinets. He found the bottle of wine she kept for guests and poured two glasses like he lived there instead of her.

She picked up a glass and sipped from it slowly, watching as Jace absent-mindedly started to clean up the room. It was adorable. Too adorable. Shaking her head, she said feebly, "Stop it. My kitchen is fine the way it is. And you shouldn't tell it otherwise."

He turned to her, arching an eyebrow. "I hate to be the one to break it to you, but..._your kitchen isn't animate."_

Clary brought her hand to her mouth in mock shock. "Then who's been talking to me while i got my midnight snacks?"

"Maybe you've got a stalker." he smiled suggestively.

"I know _you're stalking _me, Herondale. But giving it away is just unprofessional." she had drained the glass and poured another. The cheap stuff suddenly tasted better than it had ever before.

Jace gave her an amused grin before lowering his eyes to his hands, which were sprawled on the counter. A serious expression crossed his face, and he stayed quiet for a few minutes while she rifled through his coat pockets. He didn't even notice.

The coat was tossed on the kitchen island, and the pockets were empty except for a small, folded sketch. It was a simple design of a castle, but the drawing style was familiar. It took her a few hazy moments to realize it was her own - one she'd done a few months back waiting in a restaurant for the others to show up and had left on the table for the waiters to throw away.

"Not one to respect privacy?"

The low murmur was close to her ear, and she shivered. But she wasn't cold. Far from it.

Without turning, and highly aware of his close presence, she replied. "Curiosity is not a sin."

"Infringement on one's personal property is."

"The drawing's mine."

"You abandoned it. I adopted it."

"I thought you were against giving life to inanimate things?"

"Some things are worth bringing to life."

Clary turned. Jace was right in front of her, tall and lean. But his golden eyes were dark and indescribable, with a shadowy hint of something flickering behind them. His expression wasn't it's sly or cocky self - he was completely unsmiling, looking down at her strangely.

"Clary, I..."

She waited for him to continue, but he seemed to be struggling for words. Hesitantly, she put her hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. Thanks to their noticeable height difference, he placed his head on hers and she leaned against his chest, breathing in his scent, which was a mix of mornings and rainy nights.

"Clary. I need to te-"

There was a loud bang and a crash from her living room. The two of them sprung apart and stared in the direction of the noise. Then they both darted for the door.

On the other side her apartment door had been torn off its hinges and flung across the room. It had crashed into an end table, toppling it over, along with the lamp and candy wrappers on top of it. Where her door had once been, was standing a creature so foul, so grotesque and repulsive and terrifying, that the sight of it made Clary's veins freeze over slowly.

The smell was foul, stale and horrible and was what you'd imagine bodies decomposing to smell like. She gagged from it as it filled the room and made her dizzy. At her side, Jace was completely still, looking wide-eyed at the impossible being. Because it was impossible. Not real. A monster from fairy-tales.

It scanned the room, laid its dozens of eyes on the two of them, and widened its horrible mouth into a smile, revealing hundreds of tiny sharp fangs.

It spoke in their minds.

_Three and four. _


	6. Chapter 6

**Wow. A LOT of you guys were concerned i was going from All-Human to Jace pulling out a seraph blade and beheading some demons. Guys. The characters mentioned so far are human. Like promised. Other characters? We'll see. (I would also like to point out not-shadowhunter doesn't mean...not able to b...you know what? You'll have to wait and see.)**

**Sorry it took so long - i figured maybe i'd do once a week? That way i can give myself a deadline instead of going..."Maybe tomorrow...perhaps in a few hours...on wednesday..."**

**NOTE: Some OC characters are about to rock in and rock out. Also, it may be a little short, but it's...filler(ish). **

**Enjoy! I do not own The Mortal Instruments. (Also, thanks to all reviewers, as usual! I love even the slightest of reactions. They make me smile!)**

* * *

The nightmarish creature started to shuffle toward them, Clary and Jace both paralyzed with fear. It was unreal. Not possible! Both thought they were both dreaming. This wasn't happening.

Then the thing make a choking noise, black acidic liquid squirting from its throat and chest, splattering all over them and yet causing no reaction. The demon stuttered, shook, then fell to the floor and folded in on itself slowly, until there was no mark of the thing existing except for the black substance that now covered most of Clary's apartment.

In her doorway stood a girl around their age, with black hair and cunning eyes. She was dressed all in black, and had swirling marks on her arms. She was splattered in the blood of the beings as well, holding a blade oozing with it. When her gaze settled on Clary and Jace, who were staring at her, she smiled.

"Why hello there. I'm Aline. And you shouldn't be able to see me."

* * *

Clary was first out of her reverie.

"What - what - how - " she ran a sticky hand through her hair, looking around wildly. Jace also snapped out of it and rubbed at his skin where the gunk was burning him. The girl, Aline, chuckled and walked in, examining the room.

"Tha was a Stingler demon. Nasty business. Well, all demons are. This one in particular is part of a pack. It was inexplicably drawn to you two lovebirds - usually they kill in secluded areas where there's no-one else around." she chattered like this casually, as if she slayed a Stingler demon everyday before lunch. "You two are no Shadowhunters - we'd have found you and trained you by now. Maybe you have the Sight." Aline shrugged.

"Shadowhunters?"

"Oh, right. You wouldn't know. And i'm not about to tell you." with another scan of the place, she spun around and skipped through the door.

It took Clary and Jace a second or two before they sped after her.

"Wait-"

"Hold on-"

"Demons? But that's-"

"-impossible!"

"How did you kill it like that?"

Aline let out an exasperated sigh and swiveled around toward them, making the both of them stop short.

"Look. I don't have time. My team is waiting downstairs, there's a pack of Stinglers killing mundies and making the rest of them suspicious, and you two will _not _get off my ba-"

"Aline? What's taking you s- Oh."

Another girl had appeared from the elevators that had just opened in front of the trio. She wasn't wearing black, merely light blue jeans and a grey hoodie. Her brown hair was in an up-do, and her eyes took in the scene, eyebrows raising in surprise.

"Mundanes slowing me down, that's what." Aline pushed her way past the girl and into the elevator, pressing the first floor button impatiently. The girl turned to look at her, then back to Clary and Jace.

"How can they see you? Are they Neph-"

"No. I think they have the Sight."

"Both of them? The odds-"

"Does it matter? Come on. Let's go."

"We can't exactly leave them covered in _ichor _and without an explanation"

"Why not?"

The girl rolled her eyes at Aline, who, after a few moments, sighed again. "Alright. Come along then."

Clary and Jace exchanged a glance before climbing into the small lift. "Wait - my apartment - it's covered in the stuff and wide open -"

"No one will be able to tell. Unless it's more demons. In which case cleaning is just pointless anyway."

Clary fell silent, lost in her own thoughts of stories and legends. If demons were real - which she didn't have as hard a time accepting as she'd imagine she would - what else was? Witches? Vampires? Werewolves? Time travelling?

Jace, however, was clearly still wrapping his mind around what he'd just witnessed, not accepting it fully. He probably kept expecting someone to jump out and yell "Sike!" Clary's mind wandered back to when they were in the kitchen.

"I'm Tessa." said the other girl, holding out a hand to both of them. She dropped it when she saw they were covered in the slimy - what had she called it? Ichor? "That must hurt. We really need to clean you up."

"Are you also a - shadowchaser?"

"Shadowhunter. And, no. I'm - well, something else." Tessa smiled to herself, as if remembering something dear. It was then that Clary noticed Tessa had a British accent.

"Where are we going?" Jace asked suddenly, as the doors opened to the first floor at the four of them stepped out into the small lobby.

"_We're _going away. _You're _staying here. After Tessa's fulfilled her wish of educating mundanes." Aline pushed the doors to the outside open.

It was dark, and the street deserted. No cars were parked at the sidewalk, except for a white van with a faded sticker Clary couldn't make out. The back doors were open, and propped against them were two guys.

The first was a lean guy with brown hair and pale skin. He looked friendly and at ease, eyes cast toward the starless sky. The second was also tall, though not as, with black wild hair and icy blue eyes. He was saying something to the other, his arms crossed. Clary got the impression he wasn't as relaxed. Every bit of him seemed tense. On edge.

When they noticed the approaching group, both straightened and fell silent at the sight of strangers.

"Who do we have here?" said the blue-eyed boy, also bearing an English accent.

"These two can see us. They were being attacked by a Stingler. I saved their asses. Tessa's taken them under her wing. And i'm bored." Aline said this all in monotone, sliding into the driver's seat and leaning back, eyes closed.

Tessa sighed and ran a hand through her hair, causing the bun to loosen. "These are - er - "

"Clary." Clary spoke first, watching the boys curiously. "This is Jace."

Jace didn't so much as nod.

"Xavier." said the taller of the two. He indicated to his friend. "Jack."

Tessa went on to tell them she thought Clary and Jace had the 'sight' - whatever that is - and then told them that they couldn't leave them covered in 'ichor' without an explanation and without safety - for clearly the demons had it in for us.

"Or for just one of them." said Jack lazily, tossing something from one hand to the other. "Whoever lives here. If it was seeking that person out specifically, and saw another one, it probably thought 'might as well eat both of their souls'."

"I live here." Clary said, horrified.

"Ah. The mystery deepens." Jack leaned forward and said in a mocking low voice. "_Have you managed to piss off any Stingler demons in your lifetime?"_

"Not that i know of." she replied grudgingly. She was conflicted toward this guy - he was arrogant, but goddamn that _accent._

"_Clearly," _Xavier said, suspecting an impeding bickering feud. "It wasn't Clary specifically. Someone in your family."

"But if someone in my family was aware of demons then wouldn't they be - Shadowhunters, and that means i'd be one too?"

"How do you know that?"

She blinked at Jack. "Common logic? I suppose it runs in blood, right?"

He narrowed his eyes at her thoughtfully, but didn't reply. Tessa pitched in. "Yes. So someone in your family probably had the Sight, and - "

Then, in a flash, Jack pulled out a glowing sword and plunged it into Jace's chest.

* * *

Clary screamed as the body of the guy she'd known since middle school folded in on itself. She collapsed to her knees, racking her stained hands through her hair in horror, ready to scream again -

"Calm down." Jack said, rolling his eyes. Tessa had jumped back in shock and Xavier had blinked slowly at the scene as it unfolded. "That wasn't your pal. It was a demon disguised as him."

"_What do you mean?" _she screeched. "He kn- knew things! He was Jace! H-"

"Hellnor demons can read memories and imitate according to the memories of others." it was Xavier who replied. "Should have realized it was a demon. So should have Aline. And the Stingler."

"It probably didn't care." Jack replied, Clary still on the ground. "One human to kill for the pattern of mundane bodies, a common Hellnor demon to wipe out at the same time."

"The Stingler was counting."

All heads swiveled to Clary, who was now standing, albeit shaking.

"Sorry?" Tessa asked.

"When the th - demon, entered, it said something in ou-my head. _Three and four."_

Jack gave Xavier a look, which he returned. Then he turned to the rest of them. "Then they don't care if it's humans or demons. They're just counting bodies. Why?"

"We need to go back to the Institute." the rest of them nodded, and started to get in.

"Wait!" Clary said. The three paused, looking at her. "Jace! Where is he? If this demon was pretending to be him, then where's Jace?"

"Probably dead." Jack said, smiling.

"_Not necessarily," _Tessa shot him a glare before looking at Clary, who was frozen, with sympathy. "He could still be alive. Passed out somewhere."

"We need to find him."

"We're not going on a rescue mission for a mundane."

Clary snapped. She turned to Jack and jabbed her finger at his chest. "_Listen to me, you pretentious son of a bitch. _I don't care that you're a demon killing bulky loser with a weapon. If I don't get Jace back alive, we'll see just how pretty your face will look after i'm done with you."

Clearly she couldn't beat this guy at thumb-war let alone inflict real damage. But she'd said it in her deadliest tone, which seemed to be convincing enough.

Jack looked down at her with a bemused expression, raising his hands. "Alright, alright. We'll find your boyfriend, don't fret."

"He's not my boyfriend."

He smiled at her as if to say he couldn't care less, before climbing into the back of the van. Tessa and Xavier followed him, and Clary clambered in last.

"Finally." Aline stretched, yawned, started the car, and slammed down on the gas pedal, lurching them forward before the back doors were shut.


	7. Chapter 7

***peeks head through door* I AM SORRY I AM SO SORRY *hides again***

**I do not own The Mortal Instruments.**

* * *

Clary stumbled and toppled against someone - Tessa, it seemed - crying out as she held on to whatever she could so as not to fall out the back. Xavier managed to shut the doors, and she loosened her hold, which as it turned out, was on Jack's arm.

Shuffling from him with a scowl, she turned to Tessa. "What's the Institute?"

"It's somewhere Shadowhunters can go to rest, or to research something, when they're in New York. There are Institutes all over the world, actually."

"My parents are in charge of this one." Xavier pitched in, leaning against a wall as Aline made a wild turn onto a busy street, causing several horns to blare from screeching cars.

"We're going there now?"

"We have to, either way. We don't know where to start looking for your little friend, and we have to leave you somewhere safe."

Clary's head snapped toward Jack, who was fumbling with the sword, covering his hands in the black sticky substance. He didn't seem to care. "I am most definitely going with you."

"Clary," Tessa began. "You-"

"Yes, i'm sure i'll only put all of you at risk and that i don't know what i'm doing and that i'm only a _human _so i'll get myself killed, but i couldn't care less. I've known Jace my whole life, and i'm not about to hand his life over to a bunch of strangers. No offense."

"It's not really a decision any of us can make." Xavier replied. "My parents-"

"Are not the boss of me. If i can't go with you, i'll go without you."

Jack chuckled. "Go where?"

"I know where Jace lives, and where he likes to hang out. He was probably ambushed in one of those places. That's a better start than you've got, isn't it?"

The three fell silent, then Tessa shrugged. Crawling to the seats in the front, she tapped on Aline's shoulder. "Change of plans."

* * *

The group stared up at the apartment building. Clary had never been here, actually, as they mostly hung out at Magnus's loft. It was a nine story brick building, one among many on a narrow street. An alley peeked from the side of it, which wasn't as dingy as usual New York alleys. The dumpster was neat, and there were clean recycling bins next to it.

Jack pulled out some sort of device and stepped toward the entrance with it. "No demonic presence. Though, we don't know how long the Hellnor was pretending to be Case."

"Jace." Clary corrected. "And probably not long. We go to the same college, and it was definitely him then."

"You sure?" Tessa asked doubtfully.

Clary thought back. "Oh, yes, i'm pretty sure."

"Well, it wasn't here. This device senses evil from afar." Jack put the thing away and turned to gang. "Although, since it never goes off around me-"

There was a loud crash followed by a screeching noise coming from the alley. In a flash Xavier and Jack were there, followed by Clary and Tessa.

The dumpster had been tossed over, and the neatly bagged trash inside burst open, scattering litter everywhere. But no one paid attention to that.

Standing over the mess was a tall, stretched out man. unnaturally, horrifically stretched out. Fingers too long, head to slim, body just wide enough to fit his ribs. Pale and bald, the thin man towered tall, and was holding a wriggling cat between his fingers.

"Quiet down, Molks!" the man said with a strange accent, trying to tame the squirming creature. It broke free and ran off into the night. The man cursed and placed his hands on his hips. Then he finally noticed the group of teenagers.

"Oh, honestly. What are Nephilim doing around here?"

"Warlock." said Xavier, lowering his weapon. "You're just a warlock."

"No, i'm a turtle." the man rolled his eyes, folding up the sleeves of his suit jacket in a bored manner. "Yes, i'm a warlock! What else?"

"What was the commotion?"

"My cat freaked out when he sensed you people nearby. Toppled over this trash. I don't know why, though, as he's been around Nepholim be-"

The warlock's gaze rested on Clary, and his jaw dropped. "Ah! Of course. That's why."

"What?" Clary pushed through the others to the front. "What about me?"

"You've a dark mark on you."

"A what?"

"A dark, dark blood mark. Someone wants the head of every member of your family on a stick." the warlock leant against a brick wall, examining his long manicured nails.

Tessa frowned. "But the other murders weren't to do with Clary. None of the victims were related to you, right?"

"No."

"Those murders have probably nothing to do with this. But your family, it seems," Jack smiled lazily. "Has buried themselves in some deep shit."

* * *

In the distance there was water dripping steadily, echoing in the hallow space and driving Jace insane. Even more insane than he already was. His hands were sore from the ropes binding his wrists, and his back was aching from being cramped into the same position for so long. He could see nothing - it was pitch black. If he was able to somehow reach for his phone and dial 911, it wouldn't matter, as he had no idea where he was and his cell-phone was missing.

Footsteps echoed in the space, and his heart rate picked up. He'd been here for hours and he'd not know who'd taken him. But the footsteps were strange - not footsteps, he decided. It was a pulsing sound...like a loud heartbeat.

A sickly voice whispered from the darkness.

_"Not long before the Fairchild shows up to save her little plaything."_

* * *

Are the group filed back into the van, Clary settled into the corner in silence, deep in thought.

She wasn't a Shadowhunter, this she was sure of. Neither was anyone in her family, it seemed. Yet somehow, someone in her line had gotten mixed up with these...Stingler things. Humans couldn't see demons, not when they weren't disguised. Did her whole family have this 'sight'? Why had her mother never mentioned it?

Someone sat next to her.

"Don't worry. As Shadowhunters it is out duty to protect defenseless mundanes with blood curses."

It was Jack. Her teeth ground together, and she steadily ignored him.

"Look," the humor was gone from his tone. "I know you're worried for your friend. And you're probably really confused about all of this. So, we'll help you no matter what."

No matter what? What was _that _supposed to mean? But it was the first thing remotely kind he'd said to her since meeting, so she muttered a 'thanks' and Jack went to sit with Aline in front.

Clary had told Aline to go to Magnus's place, as that was where Alec and, and possibly Izzy, would be. She figured if Jace had talked to anyone, it would have been to one of them. But he hope was slowly dimming and her fear for his wellbeing was quickly multiplying.

The vehicle stopped, and Clary was out the back doors first, gathering her bearings.

They had stopped right in front of the entrance to his loft. Eager, she ran up to the door and rang the buzzer.

No answer.

She rang it again, with the same result. A panic started to set, and she tried for the door. It opened.

In another world, she heard the others following her, but her mind was set on climbing the stairs to the apartment. When she got to the top, the door was blasted off the hinges.

Inside, the furniture was toppled over. The TV was smashed on the floor, the plant in the corner was scattered in the floor, the yellow por cracked. The cushions of the couch and armchairs had been torn open, the insides spilling out and covering everything. It was all a wreck.

The device in Jack's hand went off.

* * *

They stood there for a moment before both Shadowhunters pulled out their blades and whispered something to them. Xavier stepped through the doorway, looked all around the room, and shuffled further into the apartment, searching all the rooms. Jack stood in a defensive stance by Tessa and Clary.

Xavier came back, shaking his head. "No demons."

"They were here recently." said Jack, nudging a fallen lamp.

"Did they take Magnus?" Clary said, her voice rising an octave. And who else was here when they stopped by? Alec? Izzy? Magnus's parents? How would they know?

"We can't know for sure. But probably."

She scowled at Jack and pulled out her phone anxiously. Jace's number she didn't have, as she always refused to program it into her phone. But everyone else she did.

Dialing Magnus, she was sure there wouldn't be an answer. That's why when there was, she was surprised.

"'Sup, Clary?"

"Magnus?" she replied. Tessa turned with a relieved expression from leaning over a broken photo-frame, while the two boys watched her intently. "Magnus, where are you?"

"At a club." she finally heard the pulsing beat, realizing that he was yelling. "You wanna come over?"

"N-No. You guys just stay out, okay? You're with Alec and Izzy, right?"

"Yes, i am in fact with Alec and Izzy. The latter of which is currently grinding up against a drunk Simon."

Clary sagged in realief. At least the rest of them were okay.

Magnus hung up, and she stuffed the phone into her pocket, running a hand through her hair. "He's fine. They're fine."

"Good riddens. Saving everyone you've ever had contact with would have been disastrous." Jack swept over the room one last time before gesturing to the door. "There's nothing left to do here. Let's go."

As they shuffled down the stairs, Clary wondered what Magnus's reaction to the trashed loft would be.

"He'll think it's a robbery." Xavier replied. She realized she'd said her thoughts aloud.

"But nothing was taken."

"I think he'll be beyond those thoughts. Trashed apartment in New York City equals robbery to you mundanes."

She rolled her eyes at Jack. Magnus was a smart guy. He'd catch on this wasn't normal. Though she wasn't so sure he'd immedietly think _Of course. Demons. Shadowhunters. Someone putting a bounty on Clary's head._

Clary corrected herself. There wasn't any bounty on her head.

That they knew of.


End file.
